


Three of a Perfect Pair

by Northern_Star



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, OT3, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:30:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Star/pseuds/Northern_Star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While recovering from injury, Ryan's been missing his wingers. What he doesn't know is that they've been missing him, too...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three of a Perfect Pair

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this _several_ months ago but I couldn't bring myself to post it, for, well...reasons. I may regret posting it later, even. Or not. Who knows?
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely silver_spotted (also a long time ago. lol!)
> 
>  
> 
> Takes place in February 2012. (did I mention "several months ago"? yeah...)

When Ryan is cleared to play again, after having been sidelined for a month by a shoulder injury, he naively expects that he'll go right back to playing with Jordan and Taylor, just like before. 

It doesn't happen though, and Ryan is both disappointed and hurt.

Lineups were shuffled while he was gone, and his linemates have spent most of the duration playing with Sam. In fact, the three of them have been lighting the scoreboard on fire together. It wouldn't make much sense at all to split up a line that's been so successful. Breaking the luck is not something you do.

Ryan tries very hard to understand that. He does. But everything now is Hallsy and Ebs and _Gags_ , and Ryan feels left out and useless. Not that he tells anyone that; especially not the coaching staff. He's smarter than that. Besides, he's seen what happens to guys who keep complaining about who they share a line with, and he's mighty sure he doesn't want to suffer the same fate.

So, Ryan keeps his mouth shut and his head down, and he does his best to adjust to two new wingers. But even before he's really had any chance to get his groove back — two games later — Ryan is out of the lineup again with yet another shoulder injury. 

This injury isn't as bad as the previous one was, and recovery doesn't take as long, but being out of the lineup again so soon honestly sucks. Ryan spends the entire two weeks watching bitterly as the guys who used to be his linemates continue to do really very well without him. He's pretty sure that by the time he comes back, he won't have a snowball's chance in hell of playing with them again this season. 

Ryan comes back for good at the end of February, and once more he tries to convince himself that he can play with other wingers; that he doesn't _have_ to be on a line with Taylor Hall and Jordan Eberle to be good. He was the first overall draft pick last summer, goddammit! He was _great_ even before he ever played a shift with them, and his level of talent sure hasn't diminished since. But there's a part of him that feels like it's never going to be right unless they're together; that they're much better together than the sum of their parts. Except that the other two guys are doing just fine without him, and it's starting to look like maybe they'll never have any need for him again. Maybe they never needed him in the first place and it was just him thinking he needed _them_. 

For his own sanity, Ryan keeps telling himself that it doesn't matter; that it's just a line and not a spiritual bond, and he tries as hard as he possibly can to ignore how he feels about it. 

...and how he feels about _them_.

But he's failing at both. Spectacularly.

**

Lost in his private little world of feelings-he's-pretty-sure-he's-not-supposed-to-have, Ryan sits in his stall in all his gear, not bothering to take off any part of his gear. He's in no hurry anyway, really. Practice is over and he's got nowhere else to be today, and no appointments to keep. Of course, he rode to the rink with Jonesy, but if Jonesy gets tired of waiting for him, Ryan can just catch a ride with someone else. Or a cab. Or whatever.

There's a real flurry of activity around the room, but Ryan doesn't notice much of it until someone sits down heavily next to him. Suddenly there's an arm around his shoulders, and Ryan looks up to find Jordan frowning at him with concern.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," says Ryan, shrugging. It's clearly a lie, but what's he going to do? Start whining about life, the universe and everything, right here, in front of everyone? He's not that kind of rookie.

Jordan looks away, shaking his head, and mouths something to someone else. Ryan doesn't have time to see who before Jordan looks back toward him again, but he's pretty sure he knows who it was anyway.

"Wanna come for ice cream with us?" 

It's only for _ice cream_ , but it's the company of an "us" he's been missing pretty badly for weeks now, so of course Ryan says, "Sure." 

"Awesome!" 

Jordan gently squeezes Ryan's shoulders before moving away.

It takes every ounce of self control Ryan possesses to hide the goofy little grin that's tugging at his lips.

**

Ryan is having a wonderful time. The frozen treat fills his belly with chocolaty goodness. Hanging around with his former linemates makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He's so happy to know they want him around, if only for ice cream after practice. It doesn't last nearly long enough though, and soon they're piling up inside the cab of Jordan's new Ford pickup again. 

However, instead of heading in the direction of Jonesy's place to drop Ryan off, they end up parked in front of the building where Jordan and Taylor share an apartment. Ryan doesn't protest. A few rounds of whatever video game they're in the mood to play sounds like fun. It's pretty cool to think they'd want him around for that, too.

They get inside the apartment and plop down on the living room couch. Ryan ends up sandwiched in the middle, just as he always does. When no one else makes any move for the TV remote, he stretches to grab it and a video game controller. 

Taylor immediately bats Ryan's hand away from the objects.

Ryan blinks at him, confused. "But, I thought...?" 

"Sorry, it's just that..." says Taylor, but he doesn't finish his thought. 

"Ryan? What's wrong?" Jordan asks very gently, and he runs a comforting hand on Ryan's shoulder.

"Wrong? Nothing's—"

Taylor clicks his tongue. "Nuge, come on, everyone in the dressing room can tell something's wrong." Then, a little more patiently, he adds, "It's just Ebs and me here... You can talk to us, right?"

Ryan looks from one concerned teammate to another. He sighs, then he shrugs and he looks down, because hell if he knows what to tell them exactly. Jordan is still running his hand over Ryan's shoulder, and now Taylor is doing the same up and down Ryan's arm, making him feel kind of... tingly, actually.

Finally, Ryan looks up and takes a deep breath. "I just feel a little rejected," he ends up telling them. It's true, though it's not quite the whole truth. "Playing with you guys made me feel important, you know? And now I'm not anymore."

"Of course you're important!" Taylor objects immediately. He turns to his roommate for confirmation. "Right, Ebs?"

Jordan nods. "You are, I promise."

"We should ask him," Taylor suggests, to which Jordan immediately says, "No." 

Ryan frowns at them, his curiosity piqued.

"But what if that helps?" says Taylor, looking at Jordan with pleading eyes. "I think it could help."

While they seem engaged in a staring contest, Ryan looks from one to the other, trying to understand what's going on. All he sees are two people silently pleading with one another about something that concerns him, but he hasn't got any idea what that is and he's slowly starting to feel like he doesn't belong here.

After a moment, Taylor looks to Ryan once more and says, "Listen, we can't do anything about who plays with us. We don't have any control over that. But how things are on the ice? That doesn't reflect our feelings. Not one bit."

"We like you, Ryan," Jordan tells him, nodding. "We like you a lot."

Ryan smiles, a little awkwardly. "Okay." It's nice to know they like him. He hopes maybe that means they'll hang out together more.

"We mean we _like_ you," Taylor says, "the same way we like each other." His voice has gotten a little hoarser.

It takes a moment of watching Taylor gesture between Jordan and himself before Ryan's brain finally catches up to what he's being told. "Wait...you mean...?" he says, swallowing hard. Then nervously he makes himself go on, "You mean you like me enough to sleep with me?"

Taylor chuckles, and Ryan realizes that his thoughts don't necessarily make all that much sense once he's said them out loud. He blushes furiously.

"Yeah," says Taylor, and he runs the back of his hand gently down Ryan's cheek. "Yeah, we like you exactly that way."

Ryan blinks. There are so many things going on inside, a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings, and he's really kind of confused by all of this. "You were going to ask me to—" he breathes after a long moment, too bowled over to finish his own sentende. He looks down from Taylor's eyes to his lips, finding himself completely unable to look away from them.

"Yeah..." Taylor's voice is just a whisper. He's slowly been inching closer to Ryan, who's been doing the same without really realizing it, until their noses are almost touching.

Before Ryan truly even registers that it's happening, Taylor's lips are against his. A small, needy sound reaches Ryan's ears; it might have come from him, but he wouldn't swear to it. And just like that, Taylor is kissing him. Really kissing him. It's soft, and warm, and so much better than anything Ryan has ever imagined it would be. Then he feels small butterfly kisses at the crook of his neck, and he remembers that Jordan is there, too. 

Ryan wonders if he should pinch himself, because he's not sure that it's entirely real. They can't both want to sleep with him, can they? That even just one of them would is surprising enough. Ryan's jeans are starting to feel entirely too tight against his crotch — this, he knows isn't just in his imagination — so the rest of it must be real, too. Right?

When Taylor moves away, panting, "Whoa," is the only thing Ryan can think of saying.

Then Ryan turns to Jordan, eyes wide in wonder, wanting to know what it's like to kiss him, too. Jordan nods slowly, knowingly, and it's all Ryan can do not to pounce. It's different from kissing Taylor, but it's just as warm and pleasant, and really, Ryan couldn't even begin to decide which kiss he prefers. He figures it's probably pointless for now anyway, since he can have both.

"You guys look so hot," says Taylor in a long sigh.

Jordan makes an amused "Mmm," sound, moving away from Ryan. He grabs Taylor by the collar of his shirt and pulls him close. "So do you," he tells him, and just like that they're lip-locked.

Ryan watches, his mouth hanging slightly open. His thoughts are totally spinning out of control. It's one thing to imagine Taylor and Jordan kissing — and heaven knows he's gotten off on that exact mental image often enough — but it's another thing entirely to see it happen, right here, inches away from where he sits. And oh boy, is it ever better live in person than it was in Ryan's fantasies. He's never been this hard in his life; so hard it hurts, and he absolutely can't help unzipping and reaching to liberate himself from his much too tight jeans. 

He'd meant to be subtle, but when he sighs in relief, it seems to break the spell, and suddenly his teammates aren't kissing anymore, they're staring at him instead. Ryan's cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. "Not okay?" he asks in a small voice.

Jordan chuckles and gets up. "Let's move this to the bedroom instead," he says. "Too many windows around here..."

Ryan barely has time to nod before they're pulling him up and dragging him toward the biggest of the two bedrooms. He stumbles along, jeans slowly sliding down his legs. They're down to mid-calf when they make it to the bedroom.

"Off," says Taylor, and Ryan obediently steps out of his pants, kicking them aside when he's done.

"This too," Jordan instructs, tugging at Ryan's t-shirt, and he moves behind him to lift it off before Ryan has any chance to do it himself.

Ryan laughs, head stuck in the soft fabric of his shirt for a moment, while Jordan tugs and pulls at it until he finally manages to take it off and toss it to the floor. At first, Ryan blinks, surprised because he doesn't see Taylor there anymore. And then he looks _down_... Taylor is on his knees, his nose mere inches from Ryan's distended briefs, and he's attempting to pull them down. Ryan gasps, because oh hell, this is really happening. 

"Wait," says Ryan as he slowly regains a spark of lucidity. "Not fair," he explains, "you guys still have all your clothes on."

"Nah, only Hallsy," Jordan replies as he leans in, his bare chest against Ryan's back.

"Okay, okay," Taylor chuckles, standing up again. He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. Then he shimmies out of his pants, and grinning widely, asks, "Better?"

Ryan's reply comes in the form of a needy little whine, eyes glued shamelessly to Taylor's crotch. Taylor is still wearing his boxer briefs, and sure, Ryan has definitely seen him more naked than that before, only he's never seen him with such an impressive bulge in his underwear. And the kicker is that Ryan knows exactly why it's there, knows exactly what's causing it.

Smirking, Taylor crouches down again, and Ryan gasps at the feel of Taylor's warm breath against his dick. His knees start to go weak when Taylor takes him into his mouth.

"It's okay," Jordan whispers behind him, arms encircling him, holding him up. "I've got you."

As Taylor suckles and licks, every last part of Ryan's body turns to absolute jelly. He leans back heavily against Jordan and feels something hard pressing into the soft roundness of his ass. "Oh shit," he whispers. 

It's clear to Ryan that he's not nearly the first guy Taylor has ever given head to, because he's obviously very experienced. This isn't Ryan's first blowjob either, but even this early into it it's already right up there on his list of best ever ones. Of course, a lot of it has to do with the fact that it's _Taylor_ that's sucking on his dick... 

"He's good, isn't he?" Jordan chuckles quietly, his own dick making a definite indent in the side of Ryan's butt. 

Ryan laughs a little nervously; the situation is so surreal. Idly, he wonders how many other guys have found themselves in this same position. He doesn't ask of course, secretly hoping he's the first one; the only one.

Between Jordan's gentle nuzzling at Ryan's neck, and Taylor's warm mouth on his dick, making the most obnoxiously arousing suction sounds ever, it doesn't take very long before Ryan feels himself reaching the point of no return.

"Careful," he says, landing a shaky hand on Taylor's shoulder. But Taylor doesn't move away, nor does he even slow down his ministrations at all. Ryan squeezes his shoulder urgently, "Hallsy, please, I'm gonna—"

"Relax, it's okay," Jordan tells him in a soothing tone. "He likes to swallow."

"Oh, fuck," says Ryan in a long whisper, and he completely lets go. He comes in a few quick bursts and a loud guttural grunt.

When the stars fade from Ryan's vision, the first thing he sees is Taylor grinning at him like the damn Cheshire cat. 

"Thanks," says Taylor, licking his lips before leaning in to brush a small kiss at the corner of Ryan's mouth. Then he moves away, turns toward Jordan and reaches for a less platonic kind of kiss.

Sandwiched between his teammates, Ryan feels their arousal against his body just as clearly as he hears the sloppy wet sounds of their kissing in his ear. He smiles at the realization that they're holding hands, right there against his hip. And while it would be easy to feel like he's in their way a little bit, Ryan instead feels an overwhelming sense of belonging. 

There's just enough space for Ryan to free his arm and reach around Taylor's back, resting his hand just above the elastic of the briefs Taylor is still wearing. Ryan tries to twist his other arm around so he can get his free hand on Jordan, but his recently injured shoulder refuses to comply and Ryan winces in pain. His reaction doesn't go unnoticed, and Ryan feels awful for breaking the moment.

"Careful," says Jordan. He rubs Ryan's shoulder gently then lets his hand run down Ryan's arm.

"Yeah, don't hurt yourself," Taylor tells him. "We're not quite done with you yet. "

"Sorry, sorry..."

Taylor smiles. "Just relax, okay?" he says, nuzzling at Ryan's neck.

Jordan's hand travels from Ryan's arm to his side, lightly tracing the curve of his butt. Ryan is only mildly surprised when he feels the slight pressure of a finger, cool and slick, slowly sliding into his ass — he expected it, almost willing it to happen by now.

What he hadn't been expecting, though, is to hear Jordan ask for permission before proceeding.

"Will you let me?" he says. His voice is steady, not uncertain at all, and it's clear he's not hesitating; he's just well-mannered — to the extreme.

Ryan can't help but smile, because really, what else should he have expected from a guy who's being talked about as a potential Lady Byng candidate? 

"Ryan?" says Jordan, pulling Ryan out of his musings. "Will you let me fuck you?"

And just like that, Ryan's amusement fades away. Instead, he feels nothing but desire and heat pooling in his belly. Angling his hips just a little, he pushes back, forcing Jordan's finger to slide further inside him.

"Yes," he says in a long breathy moan. "Yes, please."

Jordan slides his finger in and out of Ryan's ass then with a chuckle, he pats his butt and says, "Come on, bed," before moving away.

Ryan is so wound up by then, he's been holding onto one Taylor's wrist way more tightly than he should have been. "Sorry," he says, eyes going wide with realization and he immediatelty releases him.

"Don't worry about it, it's okay," Taylor tells him with a smile just as he turns him around and gives him a gentle push toward the bed. "Go..."

After a quick look over his shoulder, where he catches a glimpse of Taylor nodding at him, Ryan moves ahead to the bed, crawling up awkwardly on the bedspread. He's not nervous, not exactly, just anxious. He's had sex before, quite a few times, only never with a teammate — or two of them, even. Except that... this is _Taylor_ and _Jordan_. Ryan has to force himself to relax and breathe normally.

"You all right?" Jordan asks, moving up behind him on the mattress. 

Ryan glances over his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm okay, I'm just a little..." He doesn't even know how to explain his thought. 

"It's okay," Jordan tells him in a soothing tone. "It's just us..."

"Yeah, that's the thing," Ryan chuckles nervously.

Jordan brushes a small kiss on Ryan's back. "Just enjoy this, Nuge," he says. "Like we will."

Ryan nods. "Oh, I plan to," he says, glancing over to Jordan, with a half-smile on his face.

Jordan enters him carefully, thrusting in and out slowly and gently. Ryan's rarely been with anyone this considerate before; it's sweet. Maybe a little _too_ sweet... 

"Go harder," he suggests, "Faster. Please..."

Ryan hears a soft moan coming from their left as Jordan quickens the pace of his thrusts. Looking over he sees Taylor, finally out of his briefs, lying on his back with a hand around his dick.

"Fuck, you look hot like that," says Ryan, his breath coming in short pants. 

Taylor smiles. "You should see you guys," he says, licking his lips, and if anything that just makes him look hotter still.

"Come closer," Ryan tells him. He's too far away to reach and touch, no matter how he tries to stretch his arm out. "I'll suck you off."

"Well, I..." Taylor starts, "I was hoping maybe I could fuck you, too. Make you all ours. If you think you can handle both of us?" He laughs before adding, "Not at the same time, obviously. Just...after Ebs is done?" 

Ryan has a pretty good idea how much soreness this is likely to cause him, but he just doesn't care. _Make you all ours_ , Taylor has told him. _Ours._ And Ryan cares much more about that than he does about the amount of pain he'll likely be in tomorrow. 

"I'd like that, yeah," he says. 

Meanwhile, Jordan's motions have started to become a little more erratic, a little less controlled, and he's started to mumble a litany of "oh yeah," and "oh fuck," through labored breathing. Ryan is watching Taylor lazily stroke himself when Jordan gives one last, hard thrust, grunting loudly. He finally rolls off to the side, breathing hard.

Taylor grins almost wickedly and then gets off the bed. He crawls back on a few moments later, and just as Jordan had before him, buries his dick deep inside Ryan's ass. He's nowhere near as careful and controlled as Jordan was, thrusting with variable intensity and speed right from the start. Without those to judge by, Ryan doesn't really realize that Taylor's close to his climax until he's actually gotten there, coming with a really loud "Ahhh!"

Soon, they're lying side by side on the mattress, sweaty and sticky. The bed's a little small to fit them all in this way, but none of them seems to care. Taylor has one leg thrown over one of Ryan's, and Jordan lies on Ryan's other side, an arm across his midsection. Their breathing has evened out, and they're not very far from dozing off. 

"D'you feel a little better now?" Jordan asks, poking Ryan's shoulder with his nose.

"Yeah. A lot better." 

"See," says Taylor, lifting his head up to cast a quick glance at Jordan, "I told you this would work."

Jordan swats blindly at him. "I know, I know, I should listen to you more..."

"Of course you should," Taylor replies, "I always come up with the best ideas."

Ryan snorts at that, knowing better, and they all laugh together. He's smiling as he drifts off to sleep, between his wingers just like he's supposed to be, happy for the first time in weeks.

 

-End.


End file.
